


Monday Afternoon

by jucee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a Monday afternoon, and Oikawa is sprawled on Iwaizumi’s bed like he owns it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday Afternoon

It’s a Monday afternoon, and Oikawa is sprawled on Iwaizumi’s bed like he owns it. Occasionally, he rolls over and buries his face in Iwaizumi’s pillow, but mostly he stares at the ceiling and hums, a cheerful little tune that sounds almost familiar.

Sitting at his desk, which is stacked high with textbooks, Iwaizumi ignores him. (He’s very good at ignoring Oikawa. He’s had lots of practice.)

Finally, “Iwa-chaaaan,” Oikawa sings. “Play with meeee.”

Still ignoring him, Iwaizumi writes another answer to another problem. He checks it against the answer key, and scowls.

“Play with me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa prompts. “I’ll turn that frown upside down!”

“Die, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi says, not looking up. He’s trying to remember the correct formula, and he thinks, maybe, just possibly, he’s grasped it at the edge of his mind when—

“I’ll give you a blowjob,” Oikawa offers, voice lilting and sweet.

And just like that, the thought is gone. 

Iwaizumi finally looks over at Oikawa, who’s lying on his side, head propped up in his hand and a smirk on his face. He probably thinks the smirk is attractive, the smug bastard. (He’s not wrong.)

Iwaizumi says, as evenly as he can manage while picturing himself smothering Oikawa with his pillow, “If you keep distracting me, you’ll be heading off to that fancy university all by yourself. Instant gratification versus long-term gain... your choice.”

Oikawa pouts. (This is also stupidly attractive.) “You’re so smart, Iwa-chan! You’ll have no trouble getting into that dumb old uni. And we can get an apartment together in Tokyo and have sex every day. It will be amazing and awesome.”

“Not all of us can coast along on an athletic recommendation, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi retorts, not for the first time. “What was that saying we learned in English last week... don’t count your chickens before they hatch?”

“So smart, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighs dreamily. (Iwaizumi wants to smack him.) “That’s what I like best about you. Oh, and your beautiful cross court spike. And your dick.”

“Uh huh,” Iwaizumi mutters, already tuning him out again. He flips through his notes and finds the formula that he almost remembered earlier. He highlights it aggressively, and copies it out a few times for good measure.

For a while it’s quiet, just the sound of their breathing and the occasional turning of a page.

Then there’s the sound of rustling sheets, the slight squeak of the bed, and faint footsteps.

Iwaizumi feels Oikawa’s body heat against his back, the press of soft lips against the nape of his neck, the hand that reaches for his zipper, before he realises what’s happening. He sighs.

So it’s just another Monday afternoon then.


End file.
